When our train arrived in Kentucky, I stood and stretched my neck. Both of the children were still sound asleep, exhausted from the rapid scramble from home and late-night ride.
I called to them softly. “Tim, Mary, it’s time to wake up. We need to go.”
Tim rubbed his eyes. Mary yawned, and I smoothed her rumpled hair.
“Come along now, children.”
They left their seats and stumbled after me. The porter offered his arm as I stepped to the planked depot station platform.
“Sir, where might I find my trunk?”
“Three cars back, ma’am. That’s where the cargo is unloaded. I hope you and the children enjoyed your trip.” He tipped his cap to me.
“Yes, we did. Thank you.”
Mary, never one to waken without effort, moved so stiffly I had to pick her up and carry her. She nestled her head against my shoulder while Tim trotted at my side.
I searched through many boxes and crates piled in a haphazard heap before finding my battered old trunk among them. Knowing better than to lift it myself, I looked around for help. I’d decided to pay someone to carry the trunk, when a deep voice growled.
“Hello there, ma’am!”
I turned and saw Donnie Pence, walrus moustache bushy as ever. He walked toward me with an ear-to-ear grin, moving like a man who spent a great deal of time on his feet. Relieved to see a familiar face, I dimpled when he took my hand.
“How are you doing, my dear? These little cherubs must be your young-uns. I’ve heard all about them from their pa.”
“Yes. This is Tim and Mary.”
Mary hid behind my skirt and peeked at him with round eyes. Donnie bent over and stuck out his hand for Tim to shake like a big boy would. “How de-do,” Donnie said as Tim’s small hand disappeared into Donnie’s ham-sized fist.
“Well now, where might your bags be?”
I pointed at the trunk and Donnie hoisted it over his shoulder as though it contained nothing more than feathers.
“Follow me,” he said.
The children and I traipsed behind him, dodging other passengers, until I remembered Jesse’s letter. “Could you give me one moment to post this, please?”
“You go ahead and do what you must. I’ll stay here with the small fry.”
I mailed the letter and returned to see Donnie sitting on the trunk deep in conversation with the children. Tim listened with rapt attention, and even Mary had become bold enough to sit on his knee.
“I see you’ve charmed my children.”
He chuckled and put Mary back on her feet. “I was just telling them about the litter of puppies my hound dog had yesterday. Told them they could go to the barn and take a look when we get home.”
I could tell by their shining faces that the idea pleased them very much. Donnie lifted the trunk again and we resumed our trek behind him. It surprised me to notice nearly every passerby greeted Donnie with a smile and a wave.
“Good day, Sheriff.”
“How do you do, Sheriff Pence?”
“Hello, Sheriff.”
With my perspective narrowed to my own circumstances, I’d completely forgotten that Donnie had long ago put his past behind him and had been voted sheriff of the county. He’d served honorably for the past ten years and, according to Jesse, who still visited him from time to time, had become one of the most beloved citizens in the community. That a lawman and my husband would be on such good terms seemed strange to me, yet he, Jesse, and Frank had grown up together in Missouri, fought side-by-side in the war, and even ridden through a few private battles once the war ended. Their ties remained unbroken.
On the drive home, we kept our conversation to nothing more significant than the weather and crops and happier times, for Tim and Mary were both wide awake and listening to every word we said.
I adjusted my hat and smiled. “So you’re a farmer in addition to being sheriff? How do you find time for it all?”
“Sheriffing is simple enough. We hardly ever have a crime, short of a stolen chicken once in a while. Farming is harder. But it helps when you can hire a few men who know what they’re doing.”
When we passed the neatly plowed fields of Donnie’s farm, his chest expanded with pride. He drove us toward a clapboard two-story farmhouse and shouted for his wife. “Belle, they’re here.”
A short, plump dark-haired woman came out on the porch, wiping her hands on a towel. She smiled cordially. “Hello, Mrs. … Howard. It’s good to meet you at last.”
That she paused a moment before saying my name, spoke volumes. Someone told her what to call me.
I nodded. “How do you do? I’m pleased to meet you and so grateful for your hospitality.”
“Come with me. I have a room fixed up for the three of you. Donnie will bring in your trunk.” She led us to a room with a full bed and a smaller cot that Tim and Mary would share. Mrs. Pence’s eyes followed my children hungrily. “They’re very sweet. I pray someday Donnie and I may be so blessed. Is it all right if I get them something to eat?”
“Oh, that would be wonderful. They haven’t had much since yesterday. We had to leave so fast.”
She slanted a sympathetic glance toward me before turning back to the children. “I have a nice lunch for you in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”
Ever cautious, Tim first looked at me. “May we go, Mama?”
“Yes, Tim. You and Mary go with Mrs. Pence. Remember your manners.”
All shyness gone at the promise of food, Tim and Mary followed her. I took off my hat and sat on a chair near the bed. The thought of a good night’s sleep made me run my hand longingly over the faded patchwork quilt thrown across the sheets.
I jumped when Donnie thumped my trunk near the door.
“Thank you. I’m not sure where we would have gone if not here with you.”
“Always happy to help my friends.” He shook his head. “I keep trying to convince Jesse to quit his old ways. Sooner or later he’s going to get caught, you know. That boy sure is a lot different from his brother. Buck would like to settle down, but Jesse’s always had a restlessness about him. From what I know, his pa did too, which is why he’s in a grave out in California instead of at home with his family. Jesse was too young to be a part of the things he did during the war. It marked him for good. Of course, old Mrs. Samuel doesn’t help matters much, either. She practically spoon-fed her boys defiance from the time they was old enough to listen.”
I sighed. No one knew Jesse’s nature better than I. “I hope our presence won’t bring you any trouble. After all, you are the sheriff.”
He stroked his moustache for a moment before he spoke. “You know, there’s a lot of things that happened to us during the war. Things that made men who rode together become closer than brothers. Like the day I rode with Quantrill’s gang and some bluecoat shot my horse dead. That old plug fell over, and I got pinned under him with a regiment of Federals coming my way, whooping and hollering. There were a few of us left standing, and most everybody high-tailed it for cover—except Frank. He came back and pulled me from under my horse. Then he and Jesse helped me get away. They saved my life. You don’t soon forget something like that.”
“I understand war makes a strong bond. But what about your wife? Will this bother her?”
“Belle understands. She’s a Kentucky gal, born and raised. You needn’t have any fear over her feelings.”
Perhaps his home was, indeed, the safest place for us. Who would think to question the motives of their beloved sheriff?
After dinner, I went to bed and fell into a dreamless sleep. In the morning, I awoke with a throat that scratched and my skin felt hot.
Belle put her hand on my forehead. “I’d better send for the doctor. We can’t be too careful with fever, you know.”
By mid-afternoon, she returned with a tall, gray-haired man.
“Mrs. Howard, this is Dr. Spencer.” Belle smiled. “I’ll leave you for now. I promised the children I’d take them out to see the new puppies.”
The doctor bent over me. “Now, Mrs. Howard, let me see what’s ailing you.”
The doctor completed his examination and diagnosed me with exhaustion and a cold that had settled in my head. I took a spoonful of a bitter-tasting concoction and he told me I should rest. Then he set a bottle of medicine by my bedside, patted my hand, and left. I followed his orders, always fearful of the onset of a blue spell.
But within a few days, I felt myself again, and rose from my bed, more anxious than ever for Jesse to come. The children had been well-entertained during my recovery. Donnie let them follow him about on the farm while Belle baked so many sweet treats, I hoped we wouldn’t need to call the doctor for a return visit.
It took another week before Jesse, Frank, and Dick Liddil rode in late one evening. I breathed a prayer of thanks. Newspaper stories of the ongoing manhunt for Jesse James, made me despair over whether they’d ever make it back. Even Donnie had looked pensive over their prospects. Yet once again, Jesse returned to me, though not without effort.
The three men were thin, covered with sweat-dampened travel dirt, and ravenous. Belle and I put together a quick meal of cold meat and bread. Since the children were already asleep upstairs, we were free to speak as we wished.
“Zee, I’m sending you on the train to Kansas City with the children. When you arrive, I’ll have somebody take you to your sister Nancy’s house until I meet you there.”
“But you just came back. Can’t we travel together?”
He sighed. “You know better than that. There are too many men looking for me, but there’s no law against a woman taking her children to visit their aunt. I expect in about a week or so, I’ll follow you. By that time, I’ll have figured out where we go next.”
I didn’t want to question him in front of so many listening ears, but had to ask, “What if we try Texas or Mexico? Maybe no one will hunt for you there.”
“I’m not letting any man chase me away from where I want to be. Besides, I’d feel better if you’re near both my family and yours. That way there’ll be someone to look out for you if anything happens to me.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of money. After peeling off one hundred dollars from the roll, he pressed it into my hand.
When we went upstairs, I couldn’t help but whisper, “Where did that amount of money come from?”
Metallic as a coiled spring, his voice chilled the room. “I’ve been busy. Doing what I do best.”